The International Boys School for Excellence
by knightkitten
Summary: Rei Kon has never gone to school in his life. He's been home schooled. Until that fateful phone conversation that changes everything. Now he must deal with the egotistical Head Boy: Kai and a school full of hormonefilled boys! eek. AU, Slash
1. Chapter 1

Title: The International Boys School for Excellence

Rating: T-M

Fandom: Beyblade

Warnings: Slash.

Author's Notes: Lord help me, not another fic. Oh well. Had to indulge in my sudden urge to write humor. Well this is a chaptered fic, so hopefully it will help to diffuse some of my boredom in writing just action all the time. Anyway, feedback is much welcome! Especially on how to expand my humor skills/ideas for future humor!

Anyway, as usual a slash, so watch out for that. Not to sure on pairings yet, only that it will be Kai/Rei. Gotta love em!

On with the action!

**TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence**

_Going to a grammar school is like participating in a Hierarchy. Even more so at a boy's school. At the top, you have the king. Screw the teachers, the principal even, it's the Head Boy at the top the ladder. At the end of Grade 11 (a student goes through 12 grades of schooling, starting at the age of five and going all the way to the age of seventeen) every student must cast a vote for the guy they most want as Head Boy. However, this only accounts for half of the vote._

_All the teachers then meet and have a general bitch session about the students. They then also cast a vote, determined by a person's grades, sporting abilities, social skills and generally how much they shitted the teacher off over the years. The person who comes out on top of the polls when the votes are combined becomes Head Boy. The second name on 'the list' then becomes Deputy Head Boy. They are what I like to think of as the Head of the Guards. They're the ones you have to deal with when you do something the king doesn't like. Of course, every Head of the Guard needs some loyal minions. This is where the prefects come in. The next fifteen names on 'the list' are landed with the jobs of 'looking after' the school._

_And of course, what would a monarchy be without unsatisfied citizens a.k.a. students._

**-Signo Fine, An ex-grammar guys guide to being posh, pg 26-27. **

**Compliments of the International Boys School for Excellence's school library.**

**TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence**

I'm deathly afraid of planes. That and lightning storms, but planes are right up there with cockroaches and permanent markers on my list of phobias. And don't ask about the marker thing, because I just don't want to talk about it. I don't know why I thought I could make it through a 12 hour flight and not pass out with fright. My uncle is an evil, evil person for making me do it, too! I should really sue for negligence…..wait, sorry, that only works in America. 'Sides, I love my uncle to much for that. Sigh, dang it! Confounded feelings!

Sighing for possibly the fiftieth time since we took off about three hours ago, I cling to the arm rests a little harder as the plane moves a fraction of an angle. Sometimes I really hate this whole Neko-jin thing. I mean it's great if you've got one of those interesting lives where stuff actually happens that involves using some skill, but thus far I have found no use for the 'enhanced ability' thing other than cheating in sports. As it is, every time the plane moves I come closer and closer to peeing myself. I really don't like planes. As the part cat that I am, I prefer to have my feet firmly on the ground thank you very much. Unfortunately traveling across oceans involves planes and/or boats…Have I mentioned how much I hate boats. They're evil, evil things. Kind of like my uncle.

I, Rei Kon, have many fears as you may guess, believe it or not. Being the short guy that I am, I suppose that's reasonable. My uncle took me to a basketball match once and we got to meet all the players afterwards. The shooter almost stepped on me. And this was only about a year ago. I do like basketball though. I just have to be very careful not to get stepped on.

Hey, this whole life story thing is very calming. I almost feel safe enough to move an inch in my seat. I have a fear of over tipping the plane if I shift in one direction to much. It could happen! And has anyone heard of that film 'Snakes on a Plane'? Yeah, it's the in-flight movie. Never again. I don't care if I have to stay in Australia for the rest of my natural life; I am never getting on one of these things again!

Oh yeah, didn't I mention? I'm on flight DJ 947: Hong Kong to Australia. Why am I going to the golden country of kangaroos and koalas you may ask? Well certainly, let me reassure you, it's not by choice. Let me give you some advice: when someone offers you a scholarship to a mysterious school in another country: change your name, address and phone number! Let me tell you, those school governors are persistent buggers! Of course, I said I didn't want to go, but they all ganged up on me until finally they pulled out the secret weapon! Turns out, my uncle used to be best friends with the current principal of the International Boys School for Excellence (IBSE for short). So I got suckered into going after one Mr. Stanley Dickenson sweet talked my uncle into sending me.

Why, you may ask, am I: ordinary, normal, regular, basic, plain old Rei Kon being asked to a boy's school for excellence. I don't know myself. We'll have to ask when we arrive. You know, it may be because I'm just such a stud. But that's not true. There's nothing stud-ly about me. Really, I'm quite girly. I once spent a whole day with my Aunt Ella clothes shopping. It was quite embarrassing when I'd realized what I'd done at the end of the day. I spent the rest of the week getting extra dirty, playing sports and all that jazz. Just too reassure myself. And when I was in school, all the boys used to pick on me because I was all slim and stuff. Needless to say, I broke a kids jaw in my second week of school and then went back to being home-schooled. It's just easier that way. I've been home-schooled all my life; ever since before my parents died and I was moved from my village to Hong Kong to live with my uncle and aunt.

So, as you can quite understand, I am very nervous about going to an all boy's boarding school. There are a lot of new things to handle. I've never shared a room with anyone before. Screw that, I've never shared much period. I'm not averse to it or anything, but I'm such a stickler for tidiness. My uncle thinks I'm obsessive-compulsive, cause I get a tick when something's not clean/tidy/boarder on sterilized. I think he's just a pig. A cool pig, but a pig just the same.

Oh look, it's the air hostess. I personally don't like air hostesses. You have to be somewhat less than sane to get on a plane as many times a week as they do. I shudder at the thought. Oh no, she's looking at me with one of those patronizing smiles. You know the one that the assistants in those high price department stores give you when you're wearing anything less than fur, Chanel and about 5 grams of animal tested foundation. Yeah, that one.

'Would you like to go into the cockpit with the pilot? You're uncle made sure we were to pay special attention to you as a minor, little fella,' I stared at her with incomprehension for a moment. Did she just ask me to go into the cockpit? Do I look retarded? I'm not that short am I! How dare she!

'Excuse me miss, but I'm sixteen,' I'd like to tell you where you can shove your cockpit, lady! She blushes a horrible red shade and turns to the little girl across the isle from me, asking the same question.

The little girl nods, her little pigtails bouncing, thumb in mouth. Awwww, how cute is she? The little girl jumps down from her seat, fringe flopping in her eyes and for a moment she looks up and locks eyes with me. Okay, did that little girl just smirk at me? Suddenly, her going into the cockpit doesn't seem like such a good idea! Hey miss, get back here with that evil child! But the two of them are already gone, and my fear of moving kicks in once again.

I glare at the back of the chair in front of me and I can vaguely hear the pilot talking with the little girl. We're right at the front of the plane in the first class section. I think my uncle figured that if I was going to be forced to travel on my own, then I would do it in style. The funniest thing about my fear of flying is that I've probably done more traveling than most kids my age combined. My uncle owns a restaurant chain that has branches all over the world and he would take me and my aunt with him whenever he went to visit any of them. Which was quite a lot.

I was abruptly shaken, quite literally, from my thoughts. The plane just took the hugest jerk in the history of all plane-jerks. If I wasn't scared shitless before, I am now. Oh god, please say that isn't the pilot that just got locked out of the cockpit! Somebody shoot me! The pilot and the air hostess are now banging on the cabin door, begging the little girl from earlier to open the door even as the plane jerked in the opposite direction again.

I cry out, grabbing onto the nearest thing to stabilize myself and to feel a little more comfortable with being way to far above ground in a hunk of metal with a 6 year old flying it. The thing turns out to be someone and I was thankful as an arm made its way around my waist to support me further.

A crash filtered through the plane and I could feel tears slipping past my eyelids. I now have another phobia to add to my list: children. Sniveling little brats. If I die, I'm petitioning to have her sent to hell!

'It's okay now, they got the little monster out,' a smooth British accent washed over me and I looked up at the person who had become my clawing post. He was gazing down at me with a smug smirk and I suddenly had the rather unpleasant feeling associated with meeting someone who rather got a little too into your personal space.

I shift trying to pull away, inwardly groaning as he held fast. 8 hours 36 minutes and 43 seconds to go and now I'm stuck with a British womanizer, minus the woman part. Yay! Australia: here I come.

**TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence.TheInternationalBoysSchoolforExcellence**

Just to expand on the whole Australian idea. I'm an Aussie, so think of this as a debriefing on how things work out here . Oh and sorry about the rulers. They weren't working when I tried to post! Review!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The International Boys School for Excellence

Rating: T-M

Fandom: Beyblade

Warnings: Slash.

Author's Notes: When you read anything about Grammar Schools in here, keep in mind that some of it is grossly stylized and some of it only applies to my grammar school. Which, incidentally, is an all girl's school, rather than an all boys school. So once again, there are going to be differences. On top of that, this is based on an Australian schooling system, so any questions: just ask and I'll be happy to explain as many times as necessary. We could, of course, have just written the whole thing in the English or Japanese system of things, but I know I would stuff it up majorly and get a million reviews just telling me what was wrong with it, so not going there!

Anyway, thanks for the enthused response, it was really appreciated. All though some major sweat-dropping was done about how International Boys School for Excellence (which will be IBSE from now on because who wants to type that out a million times plus) was very enthusiastically responded to compared to some others which were not. My poor brain children! Shunned because of your younger, better-looking sibling! .;;;

* * *

_Grammar schools like to encourage adversity between other equally rich and posh grammar schools, grades, sports and students just to name a few. So it's only natural that they would encorouge competitiveness between teachers. Like the students, the teachers have cliques and places in the proverbial food chain. Right at the top, we have the Principal. He or She is responsible for all those big meetings with other schools, the Board of Governors (refer: pgs 45-47) and the Parents and Friends Association (refer to pg 48). Next comes the Deputy Principal. Generally it's up to the school how many Deputies exist at any one time. Some choose to employ only one while others have up to four. The facts remains that, should more than one Deputy exist, the competition is fierce. All deputies will battle it out for the chance at Principal when the current one retires. Points are garnered for dressing obnoxiously like said principal, nodding at everything they say and acting like a personal assistant (even though they generally already have one). _

_Next come the various heads of departments: Maths, Science, English, Arts, Business etc. and then the normal people. Teachers generally tend to populate the staff room/their various bases in groups. Maths teachers will stick together drinking coffee in the teachers lounge, Art teachers in the art blocks, Business in there own little offices, and so on, so forth. Thus, they mimic the social structures that are that of 15-year-olds proving that nothing changes. What sad lives we lead._

_**-Signo Fine, An ex-grammar guys guide to being posh, pg 38. **_

**_Compliments of the International Boys School for Excellence's school library.

* * *

_**

The only thing worst than a plane trip is a plane trip with Jack Davenport. And no, I don't mean that spunky British actor; I mean the blonde snot sitting next to me. Remember the one I groped in fright? Yeah, that one. Over the last 8 hours 36 minutes and 43 seconds he has told me everything there is to know about him. I think I can even name every piece of underwear he owns by color and date of purchase. To make matters worse, he's the best fencer in the United Kingdom so he has an invite to the International Boys School of Excellence. This means the next year of my life has just gotten that bit darker. I really don't like Jack. He's not very nice. I take small comfort in that he only got an invite and I got a scholarship. Muhahaha! That makes me better than him. If you can't see me, I'm mentally poking my tongue out right about now.

'Flight DJ 947: Hong Kong to Australia will be landing in approximately five minutes. Please fasten your seat belts and prepare for landing. The temperature is currently 23 degrees and it is now 10:46 in the morning,'

Don't sound like you didn't almost get us killed you evil cow. I know you were the one who let that girl into the cockpit. Oh, god! What is that!...False alarm. Davenport's just doing my seatbelt up for me. How…nice. I _really_ don't like him. He's smiling at me now as if he didn't just try to cop a feel.

'So, you haven't said much about yourself. It's hard to place your nationality. What are you doing heading to IBSE?' Oh, so it's only taken 8 hours 36 minutes and 43 seconds to realize that I actually have a life outside of you.

'My mum's an off root of Chinese and my dad's Russian. Mr. Dickenson offered me a scholarship to come here. My uncle accepted,' I should get a best actor award. He probably doesn't suspect that _I thoroughly dislike him_!

'Your uncle?' he flips some of that infuriating blonde hair out of his eyes. You know that guy in Harry Potter? The one that blasted himself into the ceiling? Gilderoy Something? Jack reminds me of him.

'My parents are dead. My uncle and aunt look after me,' I smile and turn to watch the screen in front of me…which is playing Snakes on a Plane for like the hundredth time. Was that the sound of me whimpering?

Here comes the worst part of the plane trip: landing. When I was six I was flown to Hong Kong by private jet, where my uncle was going to be picking me up. This was just after my parents died and so the first time I'd ever been on a plane. I spent the whole trip curled under the pilot's jacket in fright. Anyway, they got me up to the terminal fine and just as we were about to go home, one of those giant jumbo jets came in for landing. My uncle stopped to watch and next thing you know the whole thing had taken a nose dive into the ground and swerved out of control. It just so happened to be the plane that was transporting all these little baby rabbits and next thing I knew, a little furry body had been flung from the cargo hold (which had been torn to pieces on impact) and smacked into the glass wall separating the run way from the baggage pick ups… That bunny still stares at me whenever I go to an airport.

And while I was reminiscing, seems we've already landed. That wasn't as painful as usual. I can practically feel the sweat drop on the back of my head. And you know what; I think I know what being a girl feels like. Jack is now insisting on carrying my backpack. It's not like it's even that heavy buddy! An iPod and a sketch book hardly constitutes as weight. Oh, wait there are a few pencils in there, my mistake. It must be reeeeeeeeeeeally heavy.

Ignoring Jack's apparent lack of eyes (do I look like a chick!...don't answer that): does anyone else think that airports are the worst places on the planet? For someone as short as me, it inevitably means I'm going to get stepped on numerous times. Hey maybe Jack is good for something after all! He's a nice tall, strapping British fellow. People have to see him coming. This means, if I stick close, no one will step on me. But, if I stick close, Jack may get the wrong impression. Hmmm, decisions, decisions: to have a broken toe or to give the limpet more to cling to? Toes heal quickly, don't they?

I sigh, looking around, searching for sign to point me in the direction of the baggage. Jack's prattling on about something again, but I'm not really interested. I wish someone would get him to shut up. But I doubt anything short of some matches and a good old bottle of gasoline could accomplish that.

'Australian idiots. Don't know how to organize an airport. Not a sign in sight,' Jack muttered in his aristocratic accent and I have to role my eyes. If anything, they're guilty of over signage. There has to be about a million signs saying 'Baggage Claim'. I scowl, irritated at his arrogance, and start in the direction the arrows are all pointing too. We're supposed to be meeting the Deputy Headmaster at the baggage collection and if I'm quick enough I can lose myself in the crowd and leave Jack to his un-coordinated self. Alas, my plan is foiled as he places a hand on my shoulder and keeps a firm grip. I feel like karate flipping him over my head and running, but I know I'd just get in trouble later. I want to make a good first impression at my new school…unlike my last one. Did I mention I'd broken a kids jaw? Yeah, that was fun. He wasn't very nice. Kind of like Jack.

A big sign appears indicating Baggage Claim and I steer towards it, snorting as Jack is still muttering about bad signage. I'm quite lucky, my bag is bright green and it has a white tiger sewn down the side. My aunt is really artistic and she tends to decorate anything she can get her hands on. She's done it to a lot of my jeans and shirts, which is cool, because they're kind of what makes me an individual. Some of her designs are a little flamboyant, but she usually keeps everything toned down. And she's sewn me a few bits and pieces that you usually wouldn't buy at a store just because of the originality behind them. Yet another reason people tend to mistake me for a girl. They think my clothes are too, well, feminine to be considered a male's. I intend to don one of my more exotic numbers for the next couple of weeks to hopefully scare off Jack Davenport; conservative extraordinaire.

Jack's bag arrives before mine, and I spot the emerald green sports bag the instant it comes into view. Weaving my way through the crowd, I make to scoop the rather large bag up. A lot of my stuff has already been sent out. Considering I'm spending the whole year in Australia, I'll need a lot of my stuff. Mr. Dickenson said I was one of the lighter packers and I didn't believe anyone could exceed my six suitcases until I met Jack Davenport. I'd be surprised if he didn't get the entire contents of his six floor mansion shipped out. How he's going to fit it into a two person dormitory room is beyond me, but I intend to be around to witness his distress when he figures out that maybe the sixth century suit of armor will have to go into storage: shock, horror, and disaster.

Once again I am foiled of my plan when Jack bends over and scoops up my bag for me. You know those days where everything just gets on your nerves. Well I'm having one of those and having Jack-bloody-Davenport playing knight in shining armor is really getting on my nerves. Irritation makes me strike quickly as I swipe the bag out of his hands and gave him a swift flick in the head with it. Unfortunately that doesn't go quite as planned and it slips out of my hands and rather than a painful swat, Jack receives a face full of bag and is sent propelling backwards into the pole standing stoically behind him. I wince as he collides, knocking his head forcefully.

It's nice that someone stops to help him. Some people are even just stepping over him and continuing on their way. I love that society now-a-days are just so obviously concerned for there fellow human beings. Oops, there's the solution. They obviously sense that Jack obviously doesn't belong on earth with us 'mere mortals'… I wonder if he's conscious. He hasn't moved for a bit. Maybe that's an indication. I poke him with the toe of my soft shoes…nope out cold. Okay, time to go. I pick up my bag and turn in the direction of the entrance. Shit happens and Jack's a big boy: he can look after himself. The crowd parts as I walk away. Maybe's it seems strange that I'm leaving my supposed friend on the ground. Ouch, did someone just step on him? Eek, there go the family pride and joy. That looks like one heavy boot. Oh crap, is that security. Time to speed up and find this Deputy Head me thinks.

Oh look, that must be him. He's holding up a sign, dressed in black slacks and a navy blue dress shirt. I like his hair. All silvery-blue and pretty and stuff. Makes me want to brush it. I walk up to him, smiling happily, as if I hadn't just knocked out my fellow classmate.

'Are you Rei Kon?' He asks, sticking out a hand for me to shake.

'Yep, that's me,'

'Cool. I'm Hiroshi Granger. You can call me Mr. Granger. I'm the Deputy Head of the School,' Wow, he's spunky. If all the teachers are this nice-looking I think I'm going to like this school very much indeed-y, 'So, there was supposed to be another boy on you're flight coming with us. You know who he is,' I put on a showoff thinking hard.

'Hmmmm, I don't think there was anyone else my age on board. I mean, it was a pretty empty flight, so I would have seen him right?' Hiro grins, a suspicious sparkle lighting his eyes, but he nods anyway. Funny one, he is. I'll have to keep an eye on him if he can see through my fantastic acting skills…well maybe not, but hey.

'Well in that case, let's get you settled in at the dorms and I'll check with Mr. D what's going on. Maybe he missed the flight,' I nod and follow him, smirking at the crowd that had gathered around Jack by now.

* * *

A/N: I was reading Shin Rigel's profile yesterday, and I have to say, something she wrote sums up what I'm going for with Kai perfectly:

_'THE ABBEY! Ohnoes. Sorry, but I follow the manga on this aspect. Kai grew up in a happy (rich) family environment. His parents are both alive and well. Kai went emo because he's a brat. That's just the truth of the matter. He wasn't beat, raped and tortured in THE ABBEY._

_I hope she doesn't mind terribly that I include this, but honestly: as much as a love Kai, I do like Manga Kai's past better than Anime Kai's. It just seems to fit him way better than tortured-anguish ridden, never-going-to-get-over-it Kai. And that she called him Emo is so true and just makes me smile so much!...No offence to the Emo's…'_

...And does anyone think that Rei just a little bit evil?


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The International Boys School for Excellence

Beta: Mabel Stanley

Rating: T-M

Fandom: Beyblade

Warnings: Slash.

On with the action!

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I think life has taken a cruel and unusual turn for the worst. I would ask what made god hate me so much but I more of a Buddhist so that doesn't really work. But nothing else could explain the absolute slip in the divine balance of things. Nothing I could have possible done in a past life deserves this kind of punishment. I could have seriously murdered hundreds of people in really gross ways and still been able to apply for compensation. The punishment's too harsh god, I demand you compensate the absolute torture you dispensed upon me unduly. I'd probably just get a bolt of lightning in the backside for my efforts, but the claim is there.

You may be wondering what could possibly be so bad, well I'll tell you. Jack Davenport. I have to share not only a bathroom with him, but a carpet, floor and 4 out of 4 walls. Yes a room. Turns out, that despite IBSE being the richest school in the Southern Hemisphere, they're too cheap to erect a couple more walls and thus we all have to share a room. The room is honestly big enough to make two separate rooms, but no. I bet you they have some weird reason for making us room: 'It's to build character,' I'll tell you what needs building! A wall! In between me and Jack. Preferably several.

As it is, he's locked himself in the bathroom and is straightening his hair. As it is, it's ten o'clock at night and he'll just have to redo it in the morning, but whatever. I'm reading Romeo and Juliet because it's on the English curriculum this year. Why they want to study Romeo and Juliet at an all boy's school I'll never know. But Jack's been in the bathroom for ages and I want a shower so, maybe it's time I tried to get him out.

'Going emo now are we, Jack?' I call out, eyes never straying from my book. Honestly Romeo and Juliet were not in love. They were in lust no matter how you look at it. I can hear the straightener being slammed down on the vanity and Jack makes a high-pitched cross between a whine and a snort.

'Hoh! Never! They just have cool hairstyles,' my ass

'Emo, admit it,'

'You sound hot when you say emo. Say it again,' I choose not to dignify that with an answer. In any case, Jack finished up quickly after that. I think he took insult to the emo thing. It's really funny that emo has become an adjective. It's just such a big trend and people get so insulted when you call them emo sometimes. Makes me laugh.

I have to be extra careful to lock the door after me when I get ready to shower. And I make double sure to have all the clothes I'll need. My aunt decorates anything she can get her hands on and when I lived in Hong Kong I got into the habit of sleeping shirtless. But that's going to have to change quick smart now that I'm rooming with Jack. Luckily my aunt snuck in nice **long-sleeved** pair of pj's. Only because she particularly liked the design she'd stitched onto the sleeves. That and it's a size or two too big and she insists I'm adorable in it. This worries me, because I have to wear it front of Jack.

I suddenly get the feeling I'm being watched just as I go to pull my shirt off. Deciding that being overcautious was better than letting Jack have a peek I stuff a towel under the door so you can't see underneath and throw another over the door knob, so he can't see through the keyhole. I can hear curses and then retreating footsteps. Feeling satisfied, I continue undressing.

So, Mr. Tate explained the boarding system when we got in last night. It's really bizarre to say the least. Turns out things are getting stolen around the school and they've figured it's someone from inside (don't ask me how). So the rooms have a lock-down system which made sleeping in the same room as Jack last night really disconcerting. At 9:30 sharp the rooms all lock themselves and if you're not in, the boarding staff hunts you down and you get a week's detention or something. Scary, huh? Anyway, this got me a little panicked. I mean who wants to be locked into a room until the lock lifts at 6. There are a million things that could go wrong Mr. Tate insists that the lock lifts in any case of emergency, but what about the dangers within huh? What are they going to do about that? So it has now become a life and death situation. I have to get out of this room by tonight. My virginity is at stake!

* * *

Its 5:59 now so I just have to get changed and then get the hell outta here. School doesn't actually start until Monday and it's Friday today, so I have a couple of days to get a uniform and head into the city to get my stationary stuff. How I'm going to do that is the question though. I need to make friends with someone and con the poor sucker into taking my direction retarded self. Luckily Mr. Tate gave us an information packet last night which has a map of the school. And let me tell you it's the most bizarre map I have ever seen, and I travel a lot.

Even home-schooled little old me has seen the movie Mean Girls. Mainly because my aunt rented out all these teen high school movies, which all turned out to be chick-flicks, to 'prepare me for real high school'. I don't think they did somehow. It seems 'The Leonardo Da Vinci Fan Club' has seen the movie to because they've made the map of the school based around the one in the movie. The map is littered with all the little haunts for the different clicks and the dining hall is a mess of artistically etched tables with names splashed across in a really cool gothic calligraphy. I lied when I said I didn't know why I was here. I'm here on a creative arts scholarship, the second one they've ever given out at this school. And I'm pretty damn proud of myself to. That and Mr. Dickenson said that I was originally lined up for a sporting scholarship. This meant I would have had to have been on at least one team or sport every term. This would have sucked.

As it is, judging from the look of this map, as a relative newbie I want to be sitting at the table proclaimed: miscellaneous. What a cool click. I can only guess but according to the side notes the miscellaneous are just the people's everyone likes. But they don't dress in a particular way, which kind of describes me. I'm just wearing a pair of black jeans and a black bonds top and some thongs. I love thongs. If you walk down the dorm hall there is at least two pairs of thongs outside every room. I think it's an Australian thing. Who knows?

The dining hall is like nothing I have seen in my life. It is huge and according to the Leonardo Fan Club's map informal assembly is held here on Monday mornings as well. There are twelve massive, long oak tables with high backed oak chairs to match. It's cool in the room, because it's already starting to get hot outside. 6:00 in the morning and its already hot. I'm going to melt by 12:00. What's really nice though is that the serving ladies aren't slimy, greasy, old or toothless in anyway. There all pleasant young ladies which surprises me. These women must get hit on hundreds of times a day working at an all boys high school. Seeing as the eggs look like jelly to me, I think I'm going to have fruit this morning and watch anyone who eats those eggs intently for food poisoning. Then I might try some.

Add to that, my tummy's doing little flip-flops of nervousness, I think fruit is all I'm going to manage this morning. The dining hall is completely empty bar the serving ladies so I'm left to my depressing thoughts and the shreddage of my rock melon slice until a blonde boy around my age stumbles into the room. Did you know you can peel rock melon away layer by layer? I thought that was really interesting.

'Hey! You must be new. My name's Max!' you know how I blink when I'm confused. I'm blinking. Do people usually just randomly start talking to new people? I have no idea.

'Um, yeah. Hey. I'm Rei Kon,' we shake hands and he grins at me. For lack of better words, he's so cute! Like those little golden puppy's in the pet shop.

'So that makes you Chinese right? It's really hard to pick cause you look like an exotic Caucasian. It's cool,' Max grins at me. Such a puppy. I want to pat him

'My dad's Russian and my mom's from a village in China so she looks a little different again. I take mostly after dad except my coloring and height,' actually there's this really interesting story behind that. My dad was a doctor who was traveling through China picking up herbal techniques when he met mom and wham! They fell in love, got married, had me…and died tragically. It gives me a perverse sort of kick when I'm feeling in a bitter mood.

Max is suddenly smiling at me funnily. I wonder what that means. I need to get a dictionary for body language and expressions I think. I'm not used to other teenagers. Guh.

'You'll fit in just fine Rei,' huh? Weird much? But then maybe he's trying to reassure me.

'Sure Max' I'll indulge him. He's just trying to be nice right.

'I'm serious. Sometimes it takes people ages to find a place to fit in. But you'll probably find it easy,' I raise an eyebrow at him.

'And why is that?' Max smirks at me and it's really scary. Bad puppy.

'Because you're pretty!' The dining hall is beginning to fill by now, and I try to ignore the curious looks I'm getting.

'I'm what?' Max sighs grabbing my shoulder and directing me to the table over from ours, pointing towards the other end.

'See the red head,' Rei nodded. He was pale and slim with bright red hair and startling pale blue-green eyes. Rather pretty.

'His name is Tala Ivanov. He's friends with everyone. Has been since he started here in grade seven. And there's Brooklyn, he's prefect this year and he's got this really creepy stare but everyone adores him. And Miguel who is also a prefect. What do they have in common?' Okay I can see them both on the same table as Tala. Brooklyn has red hair same as Tala only his is more orange. He has green eyes and was clothed completely in white. Quite pretty. And then there's Miguel who has dirty blonde hair, a lean tan and is of medium height, like Brooklyn. Also relatively pretty. I stop a moment to ponder.

'They're all…pretty?' I think I need to point out at this point that I don't see how them being pretty has any relevance.

'Yes, they're all pretty. And _popular_. We go to an exclusive _boys_ school Rei. Think about it,' I feel really stupid 'cause I don't get. Max sighs. 'Don't worry about it Rei. You've got 2 years to figure it out,' I think I should be insulted.

'Oh, by the way. Is there anyway of swapping dorms with someone or something?' I really really hope that there is an easy simple solution to this.

'No,' Well bugger, 'Well actually there is one way. You know Tala? Well he used to room with Bryan Kuznetsov, who's the deputy head. But they started dating beginning of last year. Anyway, they hid it for ages but the headmaster caught them behind the old drama cottage and they had to change rooms. One of the policies, couples can't room together,' Interesting but that doesn't really help me.

People were calling out greetings to Max left and right and by now I am receiving more than enough looks. Apparently new students are some sort of oddity because everyone is staring. The doors to the dining hall swing open just as I glance over and I am thoroughly bemused to find Jack standing there in all his swishy-haired glory. I resist the urge to role my eyes and then smother the urge to crawl under the table as Jack spots me. It takes all my self control to stop myself from running in the opposite direction when Jack starts striding towards us.

'Here we go,' I mutter to Max, turning my attention to my watermelon and hoping Jack will walk straight past.

'Rei, my love!' no such luck, and can could he have said it any louder. I try to pass through my seat and ignore his presence, but he obviously hadn't learnt to mind read yet because he's still staring at me expectantly. Deciding that the sarcastic approach is best I turn and smile reluctantly.

'You look really nice today Jack. Is that...lip-gloss?' Jack licks his lips exaggeratedly.

'Mmm, strawberry. Want a taste?'

'Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former,' Max quoted, eyeing Jack disdainfully. Jack blustered.

'Well, remember what you said because in a day or two, I will have a witty and blistering retort. You'll be devastated then, I promise!' I feel like laughing, but I know that'd be mean. Jack turns to me, 'Can I talk to you Rei,' Talk away buddy. You already were, 'Alone?' damn 'outside?' oh boy. I sigh.

'Sure Jack,' I stand sending a smile to Max.

'I'm not sure that's such a good idea Rei,' Max looks worried. I feel loved.

'It'll be fine. Thanks anyway,' Max shoots a glare at Jack but nods and turns back to his breakfast. There are only so many things Jack could want to talk about and none of the possible scenarios flashing through my mind sound likely. We stop around the corner of the dining hall and I can see Max watching through the window. He pulls a face and I have to resist the urge to laugh. This, as it turns out, would have been quite disastrous as Jack is falling to one knee before me and taking my hand into his. Let's say it together: What the?

'Rei,' Jack paused a slipped a piece or lined exercise paper out of his pocket. Clearing his throat he read from it earnestly 'I feel the only way to say what I want to say is by quoting my favorite song. I did my best, it wasn't much, I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch,' …I'm blinking again, was that supposed to be romantic? 'What I'm trying to say is: it would make me so happy if you would be my boyfriend. Please?' Now how to answer this…: NO!

'That would be nice Jack,' wait what? Was that my mouth? Did I just say that? But alas, it is for the best.

* * *

'There will be a lunch on Sunday afternoon. It's tradition for the prefects to welcome the new students to the New Year and for each of them to become a guide for one of the new students. You can ask your assigned prefect any question you like and he will be the one to introduce you to anything new going on around you. Now, I think that should be all. Any questions from either of you?' Mr. Dickenson, the principal, is a surprisingly nice guy. Considering he practically forced me to come and all. To reiterate me and Jack are having a meet and greet with the principal. And I have suffered the last 3 hours holding hands with Jack. Because he thinks I'm the love of his life. Oh, the irony. But this is where my plans all come to fruition.

'I heard there was a rule concerning couples and dormitories, but I didn't exactly get the details? Could you clear that up for me Mr. Dickenson?' I feel horrible using a person in this way, I really do, but I value my virginity above most things. Mr. Dickenson smiles accommodatingly.

'It would be my pleasure, young Rei. Couples are, of course, not allowed to share a dormitory as that would give the impression that we were sanctioning certain acts and that wouldn't be agreeable at all. Why does this somehow concern you?' Mr. Dickenson's eyes sparkle and I am suddenly of the impression that he knows something he shouldn't. He'll have to be murdered…sorry, got a little carried away. Focus Rei!

'Oh, it's just Jack asked me out this morning. I hope it's not a hassle or anything, but I really don't want to be breaking any rules on my fast day here,' I smile charmingly, pretending that Jack doesn't look like he's about to cry.

'Oh no trouble at all, my boy. Well Tala is still partner less after last year, so why don't you just shift your stuff into his room. I'm sure you haven't unpacked too much yet. Tala would be happy to help out as well,'

Rei: 1

Jack: 0

'Thank you so much Mr. Dickenson. Anything you wanted to ask Jack?' Jack sobs into his hankie, 'Nope? Okay, we'll see ya Mr. Dickenson,' I open the door for Jack who lopes blindly down the hall, sobbing hysterically by now.

'Oh and, Rei?' I turn back, smiling 'Next time, just ask for a room swap. You might have been surprised?' curses, foiled. Well when in doubt, deny, deny, deny.

'What are you talking about Mr. D?'

Now all I have to do is move my stuff out and break up with Jack.

* * *

A/N: Rei is such a bitch, in' he?

And I'm sorry Kai's still not in this chapter. Blame Mabel. She axed his scene ::points at Mabel:: heh heh. And she can't defend herself either. Regardless I promise we'll see Kai next chapter. And quite a bit of Tala and maybe just a little of Bryan.

I have to say, we had a lot of trouble pulling this chapter together. I kind of lost Rei's character along the way so Mabel's been threatening me with readings of 'Saving Francesca' and the like to get back Rei's edge. Credit for Jacks little speech when he asks Rei out goes to her also; who suggested it in complete jest I'm sure. :grin:

And as for Leondardo Da Vinci's Fan Club. They're bigger in the fic later. And Art club sounded so boring.


End file.
